BlackBriar Epilogue The Love Of A Mother
by Anni Re
Summary: This is a oneshot epilogue of my story Black Briar. Its kinda obvious what is going to happen in this story. But careful! Things are not always what they seem to be on the outside. Rated M for childbirth. Read it. Enjoy it. Review it.


Black-Briar Epilogue: The Love Of A Mother

Erik sat on a stool in the bedroom of their sweltering suite in Budapest. The sun was lying upon the western horizon but that did not reduce its heat that rolled into the rooms in relentless waves. Nor did it make the heat in Olivia's body more bearable as she lay on the bed, sweating, moaning, and semi-conscious, as she struggled to deliver their child. The hand that he held synched around his own and Olivia let out a breathy gasp. The elderly mid-wife kneeling between her trembling thighs spoke encouragingly to her. "Bear down now, miss. There we go."

And Olivia did, the most recent of a thousand others in these long hours. The hand that was not ensnared in her grip supported her lower back as she pushed until she came down from it, almost subconsciously following his arm and coming to a rest on his shoulder. Her eyes closed, panting.

Erik wrapped the arm that supported her around her trembling body and brought her hand up to his chest and kissed it softly. Olivia opened her eyes, and they had a glassy dazed look to them. She looked so tired, so helpless. He leaned down and just as softly kissed her forehead as her eyes closed again.

Her face morphed into a grimace as she grunted through her clenched teeth as another pain struck her and with Erik's help she rose again. Suddenly her eyes opened wide as well as he mouth and from it came a blending of a shocked gasp and a cry in pain. Her legs spread farther instinctively and the hand that held Erik's flew to her knee while the other writhed in the bed sheets. Her whole body trembled as quick panicked breaths flew in and out of her lungs.

Erik half stood and tried to calm her. He turned to the midwife who was concentrating intently. "What is it?" he demanded as calmly as possible.

The midwife looked up at Erik resting a hand on Olivia's pelvis. "The child is near, but it is a breach."

Erik paled slightly and looked at his hyperventilating love. "Is that a problem?" he asked grimly.

The midwife shook her head. "Difficult, but not impossible."

Erik leaned over away from Olivia towards the midwife and looked to gage for himself. Sure enough, in the bloodied mass were two small feet coming from the birth canal. Two small, perfect, precious feet. Erik's mouth opened slightly in awe and delight at the first glimpse of his child, but the moment was quickly ripped away by Olivia's scream.

"Erik!" She desperately reached out for him.

Erik returned to his wife, now sitting behind her on the bed to support her with his whole body. One hand wrapped around Olivia's lower chest and the other hand ensnared in her crushing grip while the finger nails of her other hand dug into the skin of his opposite shoulder.

"I know, I know dearest," he soothed as she convulsed and cried out in her agony. "I'm here, I'm here." Olivia was beyond everything but screaming out his name in desperation and screaming in general and she pushed though the final throes of birth.

Finally her screams stopped. So violently stifled that Erik feared something horrible had happened. She breathed out a long sigh, and tears flowed from her eyes as she limply fell into Erik's chest, passing out from exhaustion and pain, and from immeasurable relief. Erik eased her back onto the pillows checking the steadiness of her pulse and peeling off the dark hair plastered to her face, until he heard the bell like cries of his child from behind his back.

His heart stopped and restarted itself at an extra fast beat and he uttered a dry sob and a small laugh at the same time. He stroked Olivia's passive peaceful face and leaned towards her lips. "My love," he said against the rose colored skin of her still lips, and he kissed them.

"You have a son, sir," said the midwife behind him.

He stood and turned around. "Show him to me," he said happily. But the happy aura slipped out of his body when he saw the woman's face was not a picture of joy but rather one of fear. He gaze fell to the bundle that moved in her arms, a section of the swaddling cloth laid over the infant's face.

"Oh God, no, please," thought Erik.

"Sir," said the midwife weakly, "I don't know how it happened. He could have developed to close to the side of the womb and it fused, or, it may he a hereditary trait. Erik felt her stare at the white piece of tooled leather that graced the right side of his face.

Erik felt his life shattered, he physically felt it crack and splinter falling in a shrieking heap onto the floor. He spoke in a deadpan tone. "Show him to me," he murmured.

The midwife drew his son into her bosom, hiding his already hidden face into the folds of her dress. "Sir, perhaps you should wait till your wife wakes. You could be of some comfort to each other.

Erik racked his hand violently through his raven hair, almost ripping his own mask of as he did so. _"Show him to me!" _he roared making speaking each word deliberately. In the back of his mind he wanted her to refuse him again, perhaps so that he could harm her to ease his own pain, more likely so that he could delay the inevitable reality of things for a moment longer.

The midwife whimpered but complied and she extended the swaddled son to his father. Erik steadied himself breathing steadily but heavily. He reached out and with the tips of his fingers pushed the cloth aside.

And saw a mirror image of himself.

Erik's fury turned to despair and he clapped the outstretched hand over his mouth to stifled to cry as he slowly backed away from the baby, his head slowly shaking back and forth his mind unable to grapple with the unfairness of it all. It was too much simply too much, so he turned and ran from the room, from the suite, from the building, and out into the nearly nighttime streets.

He ran until he had no strength left, and stopped at Hero's Square, his favorite place in the city. He collapsed to his knees and dry heaved upon the large flagstones. He let out a cry and rocked back and forth his head grasped his hands his golden eyes screwed shut but tears of absolute sorrow still seeping through.

Nine months of hope, nine moths of happiness. Nine months, gone. He remembered when Olivia had told him that she was going to bear his child and he was so incandescent he backed her up against a wall and made love to her like when his child was conceived; like when the fate of the next generation was sealed.

He looked up at the great stone kings and front of him, analyzing the fierceness in their faces. They all looked with determination in one direction and he turned and looked to. He looked towards his home, and with his emotions now in check he returned to it.

Silently he opened the door to he and Olivia's bedroom careful should she still be sleeping. But Olivia was not sleeping, nor was she even in bed. Erik heard he hushed voice from the room adjoining there's and he went to it. Olivia was sitting in a chair; clean clothes on her body, her hair tied back, cradling her son, softly singing to him.

Erik quietly approached the pair and Olivia looked up at him, tears running onto her flushed cheeks. If they were tears of sadness over the face of their son was lost to Erik because of the happiness in her voice when she spoke to him. "Our son," she whispered, absolutely glowing, "our wonderful, baby boy." She bent down and kissed the small temple while stroking the right side of his tiny face.

Erik looked at his son and saw his wide curious eyes staring back up at his father. He reached out a small hand towards him. Erik sat down on the floor beside the chair and extended a finger for his son's delicate fingers to wrap around. He smiled at his child and Olivia smiled at the both of them though neither of them saw it.

Olivia pulled back her son and drew down the top of her gown exposing her breast and encouraged him to suckle. As she did so Erik stole one of her hands and held it in both of his, his head resting against her knee as he still sat next to her chair. He kissed it reverently before he nestled his head into the soft fabric of her gown and let long desired peaceful sleep roll over him, like the heat of the setting sun.

Finis

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I didnt want to put this in the actual Black Briar story because it is a huge jump from the original plot and I wanted that story to end on a triumphant note. However I really wanted to write this scenario because it is so rare, I thought that was really the final test to bind them together. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews will be loved and if you havent read the original story 'Black-Briar' go check it out.


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